


In the life of a pine tree

by Paul_Record_Guitar



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, I am kinda certain there is gonna be death, I honestly am not really sure what I'm doin, M/M, Multi, Other, i get violent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-19 12:58:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10640334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paul_Record_Guitar/pseuds/Paul_Record_Guitar
Summary: Not really sure, I guess a whole bunch of oneshots as I come up with them?I'd be careful, I get very violent sometimes.





	1. Everyone loves Elentori

Dipper sighed out as he slowly walked away from the comic shop, tears slipping down his face. He missed it. Why did he always have to miss all the good things he tougher to himself. With a small cry of agony, he tossed himself down on the curb, " why!" He squealed, tears rushing down his pale face.

" what's wrong with you? " a voice judged. Dippers head snapped up to be met with beautiful gold ones, " why are you so upset?" The man asked again, eyes narrowed in what looked like contempt and a little bit of suspicion.

Tears welled up in his eyes again as he remembered what he had missed, " I-  
I- I m-m- missed getting to s-see her! " he squealed out, tears rushing down in a wave,

" see who? Your girlfriend? " the man asked angrily, " you shouldn't be crying over a girl." He said. Dipper shook his head sullenly, " you wouldn't understand..." He said tears flowing down his face. " try me." The man said, kneeling down in front of the thirteen year old. Dipper blushed and stared at his hands, " I-I miss-ed g-getting to meet, Elentori! " he said, voice rising to a high pitched shrill. Tears flow down his face like Nicaraguan as the man laughed his ass off at the small child. " so that's it" he chuckled, wiping away a tear, " it's not that big of a deal." 

Dipper felt his jaw drop, " not a big deal?! " he squealed, " this is my Sendai we're talking about here!?" He said standing up abruptly, " I knew you wouldn't understand!" He said stomping off, the man staring after him in amusement, " it's not a big deal" he whispered to himself, and followed after the boy, two blocks behind.

\-------------------------)  
Tears slipped down dippers face as he stood at the bridge, I will never meet her, he thought to himself in agony. I'm done, he thought and stood on the edge of the bridge, if I can't meet her I will just kill myself.

Dipper let out a Yelp as an arm suddenly wrapped around his waist, yanking him back from the ledge, " goddamn!" The blonde man yelled angrily, " if you wanted to meet her so bad, you could have just said so!" He said, gesturing wildly with his hands, " come on." He growled and grabbed his hand, stalking toward a sleek black car. " get in." He said.

Dipper hesitated for a moment, " come on! " the man yelled, " you wanna meet her don't you!?" Dipper shrugged and clambered up into the car.

\---------------------------)

Dipper hesitated out side the door, could this really be Elentori's room? He thought, " go on. " the man said shooing him in, and seated on the couch was none other than Elentori , themself. A loud screech tore from his lungs and he threw himself at Elentori, before quickly throwing himself at the blonde man, " THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!!! " he screeched, hugging him Ina back breaking bear hug.  
\------------------/-----//--)

 

" thank you so much. " dipper said to the man quietly, " no prob kid." The man said, handing him a bizness card, " ever need anything else, just give me a call." A big smile adorned dippers face as he ran back inside, waving his phone while yelling about selfies, and men in gold.


	3. Strange fruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sad. i cried writing it.

Bill wasn’t always depressed. He didn’t always wish he would just drop dead. He didn’t always wish he'd never been born. But, as he lay there cold, hard, somehow comforting cement, he did. Bruises rose on his face and tears welled I his eyes. Blue, black, purple, and yellow colored his world, turning it an ugly shade of brown. Blood leaked from the crevices tucked into the crack in the wall. Groans and cries screeched through his ears, pounding and pounding like fists on a face. Thousands of cries and lamentations assaulted him at once. 

Why did a mother have to bare her father's son? Why at thirteen? Why were people against abortion? Why did her father wat a bastard incestuous son? Why did she have to take care of it? Why couldn’t she leave? Why did she learn to love the little monster that clung to her skirts and hid in her shadow? Why, after she got attached, was he taken away? Why did her heart have to break? Why did her father have to rip the six year old son from its mother, leaving her devastated and broken? Why did he have to run and gain riches, despite the horrible atrocities he committed? Why did the old prick believe that all the money in the world, all the clothes In the world, all the education in the world, would replace a mother? 

A pained, torturous scream ripped from a mother's mouth, mirroring the panicked one of a six year old being stolen away in the dead of night. Ten years later the son lay on his back, staring at the stars crawl across the sky, some zooming past others in their effort to evade the giant ball of fire that chased after them, hoping to devour and absorb their light. As they say, you only have to be faster than the guy behind you. Who is they? Why is this mysterious "they" making up such grotesque ways of thinking? He stared at the star's procession, dreading the moment he would have to return to the haunted house that radiated wealth and reeked of riches. He dreaded to sleep on a bed of clouds as others slept on nails. He dreaded to see pounds and pounds of money that could save a life, drip from the walls in the form of fancy drapes. He dreaded seeing dead bodies hang from chandeliers. He dreaded having to see fiery eyes that cut into him without sliced him open and left him for dead. He dreaded the telltale sounds of pain through walls as his father brought home another unsuspecting lover. He dreaded the moment when father was done and they would leave, never ever to return. He dreaded the moment he father realized that they weren't coming back. He dreaded the moment when his father became drunken and turned on him. He hated how he would wish the lovers back. He hated the guilty feeling that seared through him as the women glared at him as he crossed the street. He hated that he wanted to go up to them and ask them to stay. 

All of it seemed ridiculous. What kind of life was he living? What kind of life was he hoping for? Life. What a funny word. What was the definition of life? What is life? The absence of death? What is death? Are they not one in the same? How would one know they were living unless they had experienced death? How would one know they were dead unless they had experienced life? Is there no in between? Gah! Why did his mind always wander? Why was he so weird? People always looked at him and winced, he hated that. He hated how the bakery chef would look at him, wince, and then give him a baked good. He hated that! You think one baked good can make up for the fact that his face hurt people? He hated looking in the mirror and seeing the splash of red across his face. Why couldn’t people understand that he didn’t like it any more than they did? Off track, off track. Like a railroad, skid.

The world seemed upside down, left was right, right was left. Which way should one go? His mind spun. People lined up on each side, beckoning him, calling to him, "Welcome to the left where nothing is right, or leave to the left where nothing is right." Left, right, left, right? Groans billowed through the air, and the trees sighed. Screams ruffled his hair and children cried. 

He rolled onto his stomach and stared at the grass, shifting one way and another in the wind that groaned. Pulled one way and another, like a game of tug of war. Both ends pulled and pulled until one fell down. Why couldn’t they both fall down and be even? Like Rosie. Rings. So round. Ring around the Rosie pocket dull of posies. Distant music flew through the air, lighting up the sky. He hated the music. He hated the colors. A guttural growl burst from his mouth as he slammed his face on the grass. 

An at invaded his line of vision, struggling under the weight of a breadcrumb, another crawled by carrying a seed. Seed. Wonder what kind of seed? Seeds grow into plants. Plants can grow food. No, no, they grow fruit. Is fruit a food? Apples are fruit. They grow on trees. Trees do grow fruit, and trees are a plant. Not all fruit grows on trees. Strange. Strange how some fruit grows on a tree and some grows on a bush. Strange. Strange fruit. Strange fruit that hang in trees. Apples. Bill liked apples. Could he be an apple? Could he be a fruit? Fruit grows... Bill grows. Only apples grow in trees. He would grow in a tree. Yes he would. He would hang in a tree. He would be a strange fruit. Big and purple around the top. Yes he would hang like a fruit. He would hang. He would. He. Hung. 

~   
Dipper wasn’t always depressed. He didn't always wish he would just drop dead. H didn't always wish he had never been born. But, as he lay there cold , hard, somehow comforting cement, he did...


	4. Where Is The Man?

An sickly smile crept upon his face as the human writhed in pain and suffering as a thousand hellfire's ripped at his flesh. The giant demon king crouching foreward with the apparent ease of a mouse, poking at the flesh with a massive curled claw. Shadows dancing across Bill's face as he watched the skin bubble up and melt as the flames licked him from the inside out. The aroma of burning, bubbling flesh wafting into the king's nose. Black smoke of bitter burning flesh burrowing its way into Bill's very being. 

Bill cackled as the human's eyes rolled back into his skull. sightless eyes staring at the unforgiving face before the vessels burst in a fountain of black blood. Soon enough the fires died out as the fuel burned away. Charred to ash, creating a beautiful organic charcoal, certain to feed the plants of the underworld.   
How boring, thought the demon king, as he looked for something else to, sedate his violent urges. He smiled as he felt the presence of a Goblin approaching the wide double doors that loomed over the chamber. Plaything, was all he could think as a knock resounded the wide torture chamber. 

" Come in." He called out, sadistic glee coating his voice, turning it an ugly shade of crimson. Screens of black covered his vision. All he could think of was death. 

"Sir!" said a tall goblin, " Urgent news!"   
The king smiled maliciously as he felt the goblin's palpable fear, like a beautiful perfume, "What is it?" Bill stepped closer, mentally planning out how to rip his insides from his body. Maybe I'll drench Dip in his blood. Bill imagined his love stained red with little chunks of intestine, liver, kidney and heat drenching him red, delicious looks of fear and sadness painted across his face. 

"Sir!" His toy squeaked in fear, “Young Master Dipper has disappeared!" 

All sounds and feeling suddenly stopped all around him as Bill processed the five words that had left the goblin's knarled mouth. "What?" He hissed grabbing the grubby goblin by the shirt, claws digging into the goblin's muscular chest. Fear registered on the small demons face as Bill's anger rolled off him in waves, the small hellshrubs shriveling in their pots. 

"He has disappeared, sir," he squeaked, green blood drenching his waistcoat a gross globby green.   
"We went to fetch him for his lunch, but he was not there." The demon said softly, visibly shaking in fear. Anger coated every inch of Bill's being as his   
giant hand shot out, fingers curling around the goblin's head. Whimpers escaped the goblin's mouth as he slowly crushed the goblin's head in his hand, coal black nails digging into the wispy hairs atop the goblin's head, 

"Gone?" He hissed angrily, the skull of his victim cracking and shattering between his claws, brain emitting a delicious squelching sound as his claws dug into the tendons and various arteries. He watched gleefully as pink oozed between the molten red that was his claws. The goblin's eyes rolling back as he screeched in pain, the regenerative process already beginning. Green and red blood rising and welling around Bill's fingers, skull still emitting crispy crunches as the white bone pulverized. 

He growled, sending out a call for the black riders. The distant sound of screams echoed around the building, mixed with the undeniable sound of hoofbeats. Soon enough the double doors swung open and the lead rider stepped in, angry aura surrounding him, 

What is your bidding? said the rider, thoughts tumbling around the room, like a song promising the worst imaginable pain that any mortal could endure.   
"I want you to find my Dipper," he said with a dangerous calm that only signaled danger, choking the life out of the air. "Feel free to kill anyone you see in the process." 

Giddiness echoed around the room as the rider thought of the potential bloodshed. Yes master. Bill glared at him and dropped the dead goblin. The goblin emitted a soft groan of pain alerting him that the goblin was not in fact, dead. He growled softly as he watched the riders leave through the gate, long twisting trails of black following them, I will find you. He thought out knowing, no matter where Dip was, he would hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad I'm sorry ;<


	5. Sweet dreams

The sky grew dark and somber as the deceptively small boy made his way across the desolate fields toward his burrow. He stopped and sat behind a boulder for nearly twenty minutes before he heard his name called softly through the eerily still wind. 

He thought about giving up and returning to the voice that was calling him oh so softly. 

Dipper flinched as the wind swelled viciously, the voice rising with it. He tried to hold out, he couldn’t go back, he couldn’t. The wind rising to a deafening roar, his name screeched through the wind and clouds, the sound travelling swiftly through the plains straight to his ears.

His eardrums ringing as sweet melodies sang through his skull. Tears squeezed from his eyes as he listened to the same sweet song that used to calm him roared through the air, a vicious reminder of the past. 

 

~~~ 

"I’ve been waiting for you, for such a long time," Bill whispered, melodic voice lilting through his head. Dipper hummed along to the familiar song, closing his eyes as he snuggled closer to the demon king he loved so much and held so dear, "You’re always on my mind." Bill sang, nuzzling his face into the crook of Dipper's neck, "I will keep you close, never let you go" The song floated like butterflies through the air as Dipper was rocked slowly back and forth with a tenderness that seemed impossible for a Demon his size, "You are mine," 

A familiar possessiveness creeping into Bill's voice that always made Dipper warm with pride, it made him feel important, the king loving him. " you love me don’t you?" Dipper asked quietly, doubt inching its way like a disease into his mind. What if Bill didn't love him? The king glared at him, "Of course I do." He said, giant brow furrowing, "Don’t ever ask me that again." The soft melody rang back into the air, the beauty and the beast snuggled up as one. 

~~~ 

Tears of memory and pain slid down his dirty face, leaving tracks through the various unidentifiable substances, ears pounding in pain. He squished his eyes shut as tight as he could, hands covering his ears to block out the angry keening that screamed through the fields. 

Suddenly all at once the wind stopped; the quiet that enveloped the plains seemed to suffocate everything around it, it was so much worse. 

Fear grabbed him by the throat and he quickly stood and ran the rest of the way to burrow, quickly packing all necessities. The wind roared back to life again like the demonic dragon it was. 

Tears slipped down his face as he scrambled up his horse and set off toward the north, the wind pulsating around him as the unseen lover laughed. He looked back, heart skipping a beat as he saw the inevitable cloud of darkness that was created by the demon riders. He couldn’t help the racking sob that tore its way from his throat, and rode into the distance.


End file.
